


but i'd still choose you

by thimble



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-05 08:39:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1812160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thimble/pseuds/thimble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Himuro's last night in Japan can end in two ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. your hands can heal

"I thought this should happen at least once," is what Tatsuya will tell him later, voice drunk with sleep and features seemingly moolit, though Taiga’s certain it’s a trick of the light. It’ll make his heart swell, because that means Tatsuya has _thought_  about it before; make it burst just as swiftly, because there’s a finality in that whispered sentence.

(That means it’ll never happen again.)

But that’s at least an hour away from the present, and presently Tatsuya’s palms are lain across his jawline, exhaling into his mouth as if it’s as intimate as kissing itself, maybe even more. It’s Tatsuya’s last night in Japan and all those who attended the farewell party have left; his flight is in fourteen hours and Taiga’s squeezing his ass with the hand that isn’t wandering under Tatsuya’s t-shirt, which had been white earlier. Now it’s gone transparent with sweat and this whole thing is too fast, and too late, all at once.

"Wait, Tatsuya…" he says, rueful to ruin the sanctity of the moment. He doesn’t know what he’ll say afterwards, he’ll think of them on the spot — this isn’t something he wants to leap into blindly, because the last time he trusted his instincts about Tatsuya they both paid for it in years and in pain — but he doesn’t get to. Not with Tatsuya’s lips winding chains around his throat until they press upon the ring, the one that proves… it proves—

"Let’s take these off, hm?" Tatsuya says, then laughs at his stricken expression. "Not like  _that_ ; I don’t want them to get broken. Do you?”

His face is impeccably calm, but Taiga has known him long enough to spot the lie. Not that he does anything about it, or that he ever could. “Yeah, okay.” He swallows as he watches Tatsuya unlink his own necklace, swallows when Tatsuya’s fingers linger at his nape, taking longer to remove his.

(He’ve never been able to deny Tatsuya anything, even at the cost of what they had.)

Tatsuya drops them at the coffee table then returns his attentions to Taiga, straddling him on the sofa. They’re far from doing this properly. They’re not even in Taiga’s  _bed_ , though maybe that’s for the best. He’ll never be able to lie in it without imagining Tatsuya against him, beside him, on top of him. He’s about to graduate into a life without Tatsuya again, or Tatsuya’s about to graduate out of his. He has an inkling of how Tatsuya felt when he thought he’d been left behind by Taiga’s skill.

His insides are on fire, torching the muscle underneath the skin, and he’s torn between pushing Tatsuya away or pulling him closer at the risk of burning him. Taiga chooses the latter because he’s still a kid, working on being a little less selfish. Their teeth bump when Taiga crushes their mouths together in awkward desperation, but it barely rattles Tatsuya, who smiles and gets him to lie down, somehow maneuvering Taiga’s shirt out of the way before his back hits the couch.

"Let me do the work," Tatsuya says, when he’s shirtless too. _Because I’m your big brother_ , Taiga’s sick, sick brain supplies, not shutting up while Tatsuya pins his wrists to the cushions as he slinks down, so they can kiss. This isn’t how Taiga thought it would go. This isn’t—

"Ah, there we go," Tatsuya murmurs, amused, when Taiga’s cock responds to the slow and careful rolls of his hips. Not that he touches it, or them, yet. His hands remain around Taiga’s wrists, making out like the teenagers they haven’t had the time to be, like they had all the time in the world.

"All right, I think I’ve tortured you enough," Tatsuya replies to the _please_  that slips out, in blessed English. His fingers find their way to their belts, unbuckling those and then the fastening on their pants. He takes their cocks out last, both flushed against his palm and the other.

Taiga inhales sharply, gripping Tatsuya’s shoulders harder than he’s handled any basketball. Why,  _why_  is he thinking of basketball at a time like this, what is  _wrong_  with him, honestly, that he can’t just focus on how Tatsuya’s bangs are sticking to his face, imperfect for once, or how Tatsuya’s dick is twitching against his own with each of his strokes, how Tatsuya is putting oceans between them tomorrow, and  _god_. Goddamnit, he hopes the sound just made didn’t sound too much like a sob.

It did, and Tatsuya blinks in surprise before he recovers; his knuckles are soft when he brushes them across the blush on Taiga’s cheekbones, and his eyes are softer when he feels moisture, warm and so unbearably sad.

"Oh, Taiga," Tatsuya says, as he bends to let his lips soak up the tears.* It’s Taiga holding onto his wrists now, teeth gritted against the emotions he can’t stand, against the flames licking the insides of his mouth. Tatsuya’s hips do his work instead, and before long Taiga comes, until his tongue tastes nothing but ash.

Then Tatsuya’s pulling away and doing his pants up, though even through the shudders and the sparks in his vision Taiga doesn’t remember that he—

"You haven’t…" he begins, and Tatsuya silences him by tucking him back in as well, zipper and button and belt.

"I know. But seeing that was enough for me." He stretches languidly and molds himself along Taiga’s side, despite the lack of space on the sofa. "And this way, you’ll have a debt to repay."

"What the—?" Taiga’s laugh is incredulous, though he chokes on it when Tatsuya tucks a kiss into his neck. "What’s with you and _debts_?”

"It’s the only way you wouldn’t forget," Tatsuya says, so rarely honest without being angry too. "But if you don’t want to, I thought this should happen at least once."

It occurs to Taiga that he’s not the only one who feels naked when he’s not wearing the ring; he isn’t alone in thinking that it’s become a welcome weight, rather than a burden.

"Of course I want to."  _I will always want to, even if you stop._

(What he’s been wanting hasn’t changed since he was nine, but he can’t let Tatsuya know that.)

"We’ll Skype," is what Tatsuya says last as he drifts off. Taiga’s insides feel like they’ve been cauterized, ready for something new.

He yawns and puts his arm around Tatsuya’s back so he wouldn’t fall, and he isn’t so afraid of tomorrow anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * = is where the alternate ending will pick up in the next chapter.


	2. your hands can bruise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an alternate ending, continued from where the * is in the previous chapter.

"Oh, Taiga," Tatsuya says, as he bends to let his lips soak up the tears. It’s Taiga holding onto his wrists now, teeth gritted against the emotions he can’t stand, against the flames licking the insides of his mouth. Tatsuya is completely still, and it’s all too simple to flip them over, so that his thighs are trapped by Taiga’s knees. Tatsuya’s eyes flicker up to his, dark hair fanned out over the cushions like spilled ink, and Taiga can’t look at him anymore.

The next few minutes are a blur. He presses his face to Tatsuya’s throat and leaves kisses where he can; Tatsuya’s hands are on his hips to guide him (like always), until their motions are almost the same. He’s not sure which of them came first, but Tatsuya doesn’t let him linger, easing out from under him to fasten up his pants. Taiga settles on the far side of the couch, sweaty and awkward and having none of the composure Tatsuya seemed to have a bottomless pool of.

He’s confused when Tatsuya produces a pack of cigarettes from his jeans pocket, but he nods when Tatsuya asks for permission to light up. It’s a little surreal.

"Since when did you…?"

"Why?" Tatsuya smiles around a stream of smoke. "Planning to rat me out to Alex?"

When Taiga frowns instead of responding, Tatsuya shakes his head. “It’s not a big deal. I’m not an athlete anymore, I don’t have to watch out for my health.”

"What do you mean you’re not—?" It couldn’t be; despite the path the conversation was heading towards, Taiga didn’t want to believe it.

Tatsuya sighs, tapping out the cigarette in an empty cup. “I won’t be pursuing basketball in university. It’s clear I’m not cut out for it, especially compared to the competition.”

 _Especially compared to you_ , Taiga hears, unspoken and  _still_  so unspeakably loud. He knows Tatsuya doesn’t hold it against him anymore; he also knows without a doubt that he’d trade every drop of talent in his bones for Tatsuya’s happiness. “What about this?” he asks, gesturing at their states of undress though he’s referring to something much deeper, invisible, budding ever since they’d met when Tatsuya was ten and he was nine.

He tastes ash in his mouth when Tatsuya says it, and there’s soot in his eyes that makes them burn again. “I thought this should happen at least once, before I left. Didn’t you?”

Tatsuya’s voice is kind because Taiga’s face is so transparent. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m glad it did.”

"Me too."

"You can have my bed," he blurts out, for lack of anything else to say but not wanting Tatsuya to go. "I’ll take the couch," even though it’ll hurt his back. But Tatsuya’s rising anyway, t-shirt in hand and cigarettes pocketed, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek.

"Good night, Taiga."

He’s just thankful Tatsuya didn’t ruffle his hair.

 

* * *

 

Taiga spends the entire morning with Tatsuya, helping him pack and seeing him off at the airport. He’s busy enough that that it doesn’t even occur to him to check if Tatsuya’s wearing it, not until he gets back to his apartment and finds the ring on the coffee table.

(It wasn’t just basketball that Tatsuya meant to leave behind.)

He picks up the chain and closes his fist over it, imagining that the room still smelled of moonshine, and spilled ink, and smoke.


End file.
